


Coffee is the Greatest Beverage of All Time

by WhiskyFlavored



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 12:24:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1304800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiskyFlavored/pseuds/WhiskyFlavored
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's amazing what something as innocuous as a cup of coffee can lead to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee is the Greatest Beverage of All Time

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach

\--

“I’m telling you, you’d be perfect together.” She sent a look over her shoulder and pinned him with it, an amethyst-sapphire stare of challenge. Her fingers paused on the strings of her guitar and the silence drew out.

Ichigo closed his book with a snap but did not risk looking her in the eye, careful to conceal his irritation with yet another one of these conversations. They’d been friends for too long for him to fall into that trap. “And I’m telling you, don’t set me up with your friends.” She’d settled onto this topic a while ago and was stubbornly refusing to be dissuaded. He’d tried panning her off and failed, and was now stuck flatly refusing to play target to her cupid.

“Ah, she’s not a friend,” Rukia pointed out, pouncing on the loophole. Her fingers trilled through a scale, dancing lightly across the surface of the fretboard.

“So you’re trying to set me up with some stranger? Explain how that’s better.”

“She's not a stranger either, I met her!” Rukia fumed, “She’s the lead singer in the band we opened for last week. The only one you weren’t there for, so you missed it! She was totally your type too.”

“And you know my type so well,” he said wryly.

“Oh I know it alright,” she shot back.

Ichigo realized he’d let the moment draw out a little too long before looking anywhere but back at her and changing the subject. “I had a final, remember?” Ichigo evaded, indicating his text book.

“Yeah, yeah Mister Doctor Kurosaki,” Rukia acquiesced, heavy on the sarcasm.

Ichigo sent a glare at the back of her head as she bent forward on the couch, scribbling something onto the pad of paper before leaning back again. He cracked his book open again and said, “Besides, I’m too busy for girls right now.”

“And what am I?” Rukia scoffed in derision.

Ichigo was distracted by the way she could somehow look condescending and cute at the same time, before quickly staring back at his book. She'd cornered him, again, and he cleared his throat before schooling his features. “A pest I can’t rid of, who spends more time over here than her own apartment and… is that my shirt?”

“It fits me better than you.”

“You keep living out of my closet and people are going to talk.”

“Maybe if you got yourself a girlfriend you wouldn’t care!”

“And you’re willing to help me with that?” Ichigo tried very hard to keep his voice suitably snide.

“Yes, because I’m an excellent friend,” she stated proudly.

“And you like stealing my clothes,” he stated.

He watched her look for a moment like she was going to tease him back, but then think better of it and simply nodded instead. She bent down and tore off a scrap of the notebook she’d been writing lyrics in and leaned over to hand it to him. Ichigo took it, doing his very best not to notice how tight the shirt was stretching across her body, and realized it was a phone number. “Who’s is this?”

“That’s her number, idiot.”

“So I’m just supposed to cold-call her and say what, ‘Hi, my friend Rukia said I should ask you out?’” he asked incredulously.

“No, moron,” Rukia said, smiling smugly. “Put it in your phone so you know it’s her when she calls you. Her name is Senna.”

\--

“’Pick me up at the studio,’ she says,” Ichigo muttered, rolling to a stop outside what was ostensibly a recording studio in the downtown, artsy part of town. “'We'll have lunch after rehearsals.' Why do I let myself get talked into these things?” He knew it was a rhetorical question, but he also knew there was an answer. He couldn’t say no to Rukia, not when she got something in her head. 

He was mid-rueful sigh when a young woman came down the steps, her hair tied up in a red ribbon just as she’d said it would be, and immediately came towards his car. Well, he realized, at least Rukia was correct about what he found attractive, watching as she opened the car door and slid inside, all dark hair and creamy skin, slender curves and dazzling smiles. He felt a slight heat beneath his collar at the thought of Rukia juxtaposed to that set of attributes, and was thrown further off guard when she turned a bright smile directly at him.

“Hi!” she said, closing the car door and propping her elbows on the center console, “I really hope you’re the Ichigo that Rukia said you’d be, otherwise I’ve just gotten into a total stranger’s car.”

“No,” he spoke, clearing his throat. “I’m Ichigo.”

“Senna,” she introduced, “I hope you're hungry, I’m starving.”

“Sounds good,” he agreed with a friendly smile, beginning to enjoy her energy. “I know just the place.”

\--

“Mexican?” Senna asked dubiously.

Ichigo chuckled as they rolled into a parking spot and shut off the engine. Out the window was the simple front face of his favorite restaurant, ‘Chad’s’ written across the sign. “This place is great, you ever been here?”

“No,” she said, following suit and stepping out of the car. She linked arms with him and put a pleasantly surprised look on his face as they crossed the street, saying, “But if you say so.”

They were seated at a table on the covered rear patio, the lunchtime rush tapering off, with a view of the bay. Warming up to the place, Senna relaxed as she perused the menu and chatted about foreign food. Conversation eventually turned, midway through lunch, to the person who’d brought them together.

“So that’s how I met her,” Ichigo said, the rest of his food forgotten as he searched the air above him, drawing on long ago memories.

“Right through your window?” Senna asked, a quirk in her eyebrows as she set her chin in her palm. “Just like that, and you’ve been friends ever since?”

“Just like that.” Ichigo realized he’d let the moment linger too long again before covering his hesitancy by staring down at his plate, evaluating whether to finish or not. “What about you?” he said, tossing his napkin over his plate. “Rukia said she met you at a show?”

“Backstage, mostly,” Senna nodded. “She was complaining about the coffee so I gave her my thermos.”

At this Ichigo laughed and leaned back, idly scratching the back of his head. “Yeah, that sounds about right. She’s big into coffee.”

“So we hung out for a while after our sets,” Senna said, staring up at the clouds above the bay. “She’s pretty cool.”

Ichigo inwardly agreed as he watched Senna shake off a wistful look, his own brow perking up a fraction at this observation, before conversation drifted off towards other topics. He settled the bill and they were headed back to his car, early evening falling across the city, when he felt his phone chirp. Frowning at it, he slipped it from his pocket and nearly groaned aloud.

“’Sup?” she asked, crossing her arms across the roof of the car.

“It’s Rukia, believe it or not.”

“Yeah?” Senna perked up, then tilted her head in confusion. “That must be your parachute text.”

“What?” Ichigo asked, clearly lost.

“You know, the one you get from your friend mid-way through a date, the one you answer if you need to be bailed out of a horrible evening,” she said with a bemused smile. “I hope it’s not going that bad.”

“No,” Ichigo denied, still wrapping his head around the concept. He shook his head and looked her in the eye. “No, not at all, this is going great,” he said earnestly, “That’s not what Rukia’s texting me about.”

“Well, if she’s not trying to rescue you from me, then what’s up?”

“She’s the one who needs a rescue,” Ichigo said, handing her his phone across the top of the car.

Perplexed, Senna stared down at the screen, the message reading: I’m being arrested. :-( 

“Oh, crap,” she said.

\--

“I understand, officer. Thank you very much,” Ichigo said as Rukia came shuffling over to them, hands in her pockets and features downcast.

The officer pursed his thin lips and took the papers he’d signed, leaving sharply only to return with a clear plastic bag containing her personal affects that he handed over to Rukia. She took it mutely and didn’t reply when he muttered, “You’re getting off lucky.”

“Thanks again, Officer… uh.”

“Officer Hitsugaya,” Senna supplied, poking him in the side.

“Right, right,” Ichigo said, looking sheepish standing beside Rukia, who looked despondently remorseful, while Senna managed to maintain her sunny disposition. The officer turned about and headed back into the precinct, leaving them in the long hall leading towards the exit. Rukia didn’t speak until they were all the way safely ensconced in Ichigo’s car.

“I am going to kill Renji,” Rukia seethed, dropping the morose, repentant act in an instant. Senna was a bit thrown by the rapid change but Ichigo was not.

“Might want to keep the murder talk down, there are cops right over there,” Senna pointed out. Rukia aimed a glare at her from the back seat and continued to sulk.

“I leave you alone for one afternoon, one, and you get yourself arrested?” Ichigo asked.

“I didn’t get myself arrested!” Rukia shouted at him, “It was Renji’s fault. I was just…”

“Collateral damage?” Senna supplied.

“Yeah,” Rukia said, still fuming in the back seat. “Me, and that ice cream van.”

“I don’t want to know,” Ichigo maintained. “Whoever it was, they didn’t press charges against you, so we’re getting out of here.” He drove, inordinately sedately, out of the precinct parking lot and out into traffic.

“I’m sorry for ruining your date,” Rukia sighed after a few quiet moments.

“Oh sweetie,” Senna said, “You didn’t ruin anything.” Senna reached back to caress her cheek. “This has been awesome so far.”

Rukia ‘hmphed’ in response, then, with exaggerated disappointment, said to Ichigo, “Speaking of, nice job bringing your date to jail, to pick up some other girl Ichigo. Real classy.”

Ichigo raised his hands in defeat before putting them back on the wheel. “I tried to drop her back off but she said no.”

“No way I was going home, how many dates have you ever gone that included a trip to jail?” Senna asked, a sparkle in her eye.

“Don’t answer that,” Ichigo cautioned Rukia. “And don’t encourage her,” he directed to Senna.

“Can you just take me back to my place? I’m hungry and despite what you say, I still feel weird being here with you two.”

“Do you have any food at your place?” he asked archly.

“Uh,” Rukia stalled.

“I thought not.”

“Perfect,” Senna said happily. Ichigo and Rukia both glanced at her with identical looks of disbelief, to which she only laughed lightly. “It’s still early, there’s no point in calling it a night. I’m having fun with Ichigo,” she caressed the side of his ear with a fingertip, causing him to flinch away from the ticklish sensation with a boyish blush and awkward smile, “And we can’t exactly leave Rukia on her own, who knows what mischief she might get up to.” Rukia frowned at Senna’s teasing tone. “We have a responsibility to protect society from this dangerous rapscallion,” Senna proclaimed, fixing her face into a study of serious deliberation.

“I’m glad you’re having fun at my expense,” Rukia deadpanned.

“I’ll tell you what,” Senna offered. “We’ll go back to my place and I’ll make you coffee as payment.”

This perked Rukia up and she agreed until she heard where Senna actually lived. “Ichigo’s place is closer,” she pointed out. “He has food and coffee,” she added conspiratorially.

“Oy, you could ask you know,” Ichigo said, adjusting their route to take them back towards his apartment.

“I’m sorry Ichigo, what was that?” Senna asked, holding a hand to her ear, “It sounded for a moment that you didn’t want to take two hot chicks back to your apartment.”

“N-no,” Ichigo stuttered, coloring brightly. He flushed deeper when he caught Senna's overly sultry wink at Rukia to each other in his rearview mirror.

\--

Ichigo unlocked the door to his modest apartment and held it open for Rukia and Senna. With practiced confidence, Rukia strode through the dark and flicked the lights on. Shrugging out of her jacket, she hung it on a hook in the hall closet before taking Senna’s and Ichigo’s.

“Nice place, what do you do again?” Senna asked, walking curiously through the apartment.

“He’s a student,” Rukia answered for him. “Med school.”

“I have a job too,” Ichigo argued, heading to the kitchen.

Rukia waved away his comments. “You push papers around a clinic.”

“You do realize, Miss Secretary, that’s the same thing you do when you’re not playing guitar, right?” Ichigo asked from inside the refrigerator.

“Which is why I know how much of non-job it is.” Senna sat down next to Rukia’s customary spot on the couch and turned to face her. “Besides, I'm a musician, I just happen to have a secretary job," she sniffed. "It’s mindless, boring and repetitive,” Rukia continued blithely. “Just like you!”

“I dunno,” Senna said, both of them ignoring Ichigo’s exclamation of outrage, “He’s been fun so far.”

“Let me guess,” Rukia said, tucking her legs beneath her, “He took you to a restaurant for lunch.”

“Yep, Mexican.”

Rukia rolled her eyes. “Big shocker, and then I bet you were going to see a movie or something equally traditionally date-like.”

“Uh, I dunno,” Senna said, “We hadn’t gotten that far. Anyway, it doesn’t matter.”

“Why not?”

“Because we picked you up and now you’re here and Ichigo is making us food and this is way better than a movie.” Rukia looked unconvinced and Senna took the opportunity to lean closer to her, lowering her voice. “Besides, now I can ask you about him some more.”

“What do you want to know?” Rukia replied, her own voice hushed.

“He seems,” Senna said, casting a covert glance over her shoulder towards the kitchen, from where she could hear chopping and sizzling, “A little different around you. More alive. He was fine at lunch, a perfectly nice guy, but I could tell when we started talking about you.”

“He talked about me?” Rukia asked. “On a date with another girl? He can be so dumb.”

Senna laughed lightly. “It wasn’t like that, we just talked about how you set us up, how we each met you and stuff.” Rukia smirked and shook her head, but Senna could see the edges of her eyes soften just a little as she glanced at the kitchen as well. Senna forged on fearlessly, hoping to catch Rukia off guard and get an honest answer. “So I just wanted to know what he’s like in bed.”

“What?” Rukia gasped, too loudly. Her eyes had widened and a blush crept quickly over her cheeks.

“Shhh,” Senna hushed, a wide grin on her face. “You know,” she went on, leaning even closer towards Rukia. “Just between us, girl to girl, is he good? I bet he’s good.”

“I… I don’t know!” Rukia whispered back vehemently, shaking her head. Unbidden, highly suggestive images began swimming through Rukia’s mind, and she colored even more as they started tending towards explicit.

Senna looked a little crestfallen. “You and he never…?” Rukia shook her head, looking mildly shocked at this avenue of conversation. “Well I just figured it hadn’t worked out between you guys, but it’s obvious you’re good friends.”

“What do you mean, it’s obvious?”

“Well look at him,” Senna said, “I told you he’s more alive when you’re around. Like a different kind of energy, same as you.” Senna smiled at the dumbfounded look on Rukia’s face, patting her thigh. “I’ve seen you at your shows, from what you told me he must've been out in the audience. And I saw how you were at the last show, the one he wasn’t at. You were different, muted, just not all there.”

“I was not,” Rukia defended, but it came out lame even to her.

“Why do you think I came over to talk to you, to see what was the matter?”

“I just thought you were being friendly,” Rukia said, mock suspicion creeping into her tone.

“I was!” Senna argued, “I wanted to be friends with that kind of energy, that kind of person who can be more alive than most, but I was too chicken until that night. I figured you were bumming and wanted to know if I could help.”

“So when you said you’d give Ichigo a call,” Rukia connected, “You were still just being nice?” Her face must’ve showed the fact that she thought was a pretty shitty reason to go on a blind date.

“No,” Senna argued, slightly hurt by the judgment in her tone, “I wanted to meet someone you thought was good enough to be your friend already.” Senna looked over towards the kitchen and her voice softened as she watched Ichigo retrieving plates from a cupboard. “Someone with that same kind of energy that I could be a part of.” She looked back at Rukia with a shy smile. "So when you asked, I couldn't say no."

“Oh,” Rukia realized, suddenly feeling the odd man out, “Maybe I should go and let you get back to your date. I don’t want to mess it up any more than I have already.”

“No, no,” Senna exclaimed, standing up nervously. “That reminds me I still have to make you coffee, so just sit right there.” She quickly strode from the room, leaving a bewildered Rukia in her wake.

Her eyebrow quirked in mild confusion, Rukia ignored Senna’s instructions to wait on the couch, choosing instead to move to the stools at the breakfast nook just as Ichigo was sliding plates into place. “What did you make?” Rukia asked, staring down at the plate and taking the fork he nudged into her hand.

“What’s it look like, I made omelets.” He set another plate for Senna on the stool beside her before coming around the kitchen partition, carrying one for himself.

“But… why?”

“You wanted coffee, I just figured I’d make something to go with it.”

“So you made breakfast, for dinner.”

Ichigo shrugged and dropped into a seat beside her, setting a plate in front of him and expertly twirling a fork between his fingers. From the kitchen they could hear Senna at the sink, filling the coffee pot with water. Ichigo cast a significant look in Rukia’s direction and with a subtle tilt of his head and movement of his eyebrows, indicated that he wanted her assessment of Senna.

Rukia pursed her lips, drumming the fork lightly against the counter and turned to study the young woman who was measuring out coffee in the kitchen. She tossed her head and stood from the stool, taking a quick couple strides away before turning back. There was something about her that he obviously wanted to discuss, and Rukia felt the same, and that a little privacy was needed. She was surprised to find he’d silently followed her only a pace behind. 

“Listen, I think she likes you.”

They’d both spoken at the same time, with identical words, directly at the other.

Staring silently at each other, as if they’d not heard the other correctly, they wore identical expressions of shock and confusion. Rukia managed to recover quicker and blinked a few times, eventually managing to harshly whisper, “What are you talking about?”

“Haven’t you watched her?” Ichigo muttered back, his eyes expressing disbelief. “She can’t keep her hands off you, and she’s been way more into this whole date thing since you showed up.” Ichigo crossed his arms and stood up. “I’m pretty sure she only agreed to go out with me to get closer to you.”

Rukia, unimpressed by his towering stature, sent a swift kick at his shin. She ignored his less-than-manly yelp of pain and surprise and took a hold of his collar while he was hobbled over, keeping him down at her level. “You idiot, she’s not into me. We just spent all that time you were cooking talking about you. Girl’s got it bad for you, dumbass, so don’t screw it up.”

“Oh yeah?” Ichigo whispered back, “What’d she say when you tried to bail?” Rukia’s face lost a little bit of its bluster. “How long did she keep her hand on your thigh?” The slow widening of her eyes was all he needed to see. Rukia could be remarkably observant, but sometimes she missed the most obvious stuff. They heard the staticky hiss of the coffee maker churn to life and turned to see Senna slip from the kitchen, lean against the counter and wave them over. Eyeing each other in silent concern, each communicating to the other that they’ll be extra vigilant of Senna’s intentions, they moved back to the counter to join her.

“More foreign food?” Senna asked, eyes alight as she hopped up on the stool in the center. She took a deep sniff of the aroma wafting off the plate and her eyes closed in blissful contentment.

“Yeah, Ichigo likes all kinds of weird stuff,” Rukia said, sitting to her left.

“Me too,” Senna agreed, then paused as she thought better of her wording. “Well, I guess you could say I’m non-traditional.” She offered a smile to Ichigo as he sat to her right.

Rukia caught Ichigo’s look over the top of Senna’s head as she sheared off a piece of omelet and leaned over to eat it. ‘See?’ his look clearly said, ‘Non-traditional!’

Senna straightened back up, her lips still clasped around the tines of her fork, obviously relishing the flavor in her mouth. “Mmm,” she practically moaned, “Delicious. I love a man who can cook.”

“Really?” Rukia asked, tone laden, propping her chin on her hand.

“Oh yeah,” Senna said, “Nothing more attractive than a guy who knows his way around a kitchen.” Ichigo sputtered a bit, trying not to choke on the bite of omelet he’d just put in his mouth. He waved off their looks of concern, Rukia’s morphing into one of significance once Senna’s attention returned to her plate. Ichigo could only shrug helplessly in response, totally at a loss for how to proceed, until Senna spoke again.

“What? Sorry,” Rukia admitted, focusing back on Senna.

“I said, ‘Don’t you think so too?’”

“’Don’t I think so too,’ what?”

“That Ichigo is attractive when he blushes.” Now it was Rukia’s turn to sputter incoherently, her eyes drifting to his involuntarily to see a crimson flush across his neck and cheeks. “Oh, wait,” Senna said, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Rukia’s ear. A warm glow had settled across her own face, throwing a few faint freckles into relief across her nose. Senna leaned over as she slid from the stool, brushing a whisper in her ear as she went by. “Now that is adorable.”

Stricken, Rukia could only stare at Ichigo as Senna breezed past him and back into the kitchen. For his part, Ichigo only wore an ‘I’m as confused as you are’ look as he finished his omelet. Sighing, Rukia pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes, this ordeal beginning to give her a headache until a familiar aroma drew her attention. She opened her eyes to find Senna returning, bearing a single cup of coffee. She gently blew the steam from across the surface, her lips glistening as she pursed them, and then set it in front of Rukia with a smile. “Thanks,” Rukia said, carefully neutral as she picked up the cup. Her eyelids fluttered closed as she raised the cup to her lips, the distinct smell filling her nose. She’d always found the taste of coffee to be comforting; a warmth that spread within her and left her tingling. She didn’t really enjoy the heavy, too-rich gimmick coffees that trendy coffee shops sold, they too often masked the rich complexity of the flavor with syrups and chocolate. Sipping delicately, she let the hot liquid coat her tongue, recognizing the dark roast Ichigo kept and the hint of cream Senna had added, but her eyes popped open as another flavor swirled across her tastebuds.

“What do you think?” Senna asked hopefully, “I hope I got the ratio right.” She plucked the cup from Rukia’s grasp, carefully watching the expression on her face as she brought her fingertips to her lips, her sapphire-amethyst eyes searching the air above her as the sensation mellowed her, the coffee easing down her throat to warm her from inside. “Here, you try it,” she said to Ichigo, handing him the cup. “Make sure it tastes okay.”

“It tastes,” Rukia said softly, turning to face the other young woman. “Wonderful,” she finally breathed.

Ichigo, curious as to what all the fuss was about, lifted the cup and took an experimental sniff. Detecting a note of something familiar, he took a sip, then another deeper drink of the hot coffee, his eyebrows lifting in surprise. Swallowing, he rolled his tongue thoughtfully across his lips and set the cup back down. “It’s got…”

“Cinnamon in it,” Senna said, picking up the cup and sliding from the stool. “I didn’t add a dash in the cup though, I added it to the grounds, so it would flavor the coffee without being gritty.” Holding the coffee in her hands, she closed her eyes and took a sniff of it as well. “I love making coffee like this,” she admitted. “I love the strong bitterness of a rich, dark roast,” her eyes shifted to Ichigo. “And the delicate aroma and spicy notes of cinnamon,” she flicked her eyes to Rukia. “They complement each other, bring out new sides in each other, and both fall a little flat without the other.”

“So you like,” Ichigo said cautiously.

“Both?” Rukia finished, equally trepidatious.

Senna let a secretive smile widen across her lips as she lifted the cup, taking a deep drink. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips as she lowered the cup, releasing a sigh of supreme satisfaction. “Yes,” she said, her eyebrow rising almost imperceptibly, “Both.”

\--

Dinner resolved itself, if not awkwardly then at least quietly, full of somewhat stilted conversation attempts by both Ichigo and Rukia. Through it all, Senna simply sat back and relaxed, serenely enjoying their company and filling the gaps of their discussion with seemingly innocuous, but subtly suggestive, comments. If she was concerned that her actions were flustering Ichigo and confusing Rukia, she didn't show it. The three of them withdrew to the living room, each a comfortable distance from each other, as the evening went on.

Rukia, once again sitting with her guitar on her lap, played softly through some simple chords. Ichigo narrowed his eyes at her, knowing full well she'd only retrieved it from the corner she usually kept it in to have something between her and the rest of them. She used it a shield more than an instrument, he sometimes thought. He watched her catch his eye and straighten slightly before shooting him a prim little smile.

"I like the way your fingers move," Senna said, a study of innocence.

Rukia glanced her way, curled up on the plush chair across from her, pointing at the hands she was using to fret her guitar. She shifted her attention back to her hands and watched as they slid along the strings, the strings muted as she ghosted through a few more shapes. "Thanks," Rukia replied, having no real idea what someone should say in such a situation.

Senna stood and padded across the carpet, sitting to Rukia's left and watching the way her hands moved. "I play a little, but they don't let me record. Just sing," Senna said.

"If you want to play, you just should do it," Rukia insisted, her hands coming to a stop.

"No," Senna laughed. "You put something like this in my hands," her fingers curled around the neck of Rukia's guitar, the tips of her fingers grazing along the strings, "And I feel like I'm all alone, I can't keep it together." Her dark eyes met Rukia's. "I'm much better in a group." 

"Really?" Rukia asked. She tried to keep the question light, but it came out a little breathy. Her mouth was feeling dry from the way Senna was looking at her.

"Play they low E," Senna instructed. There was a note of something deeper in her hushed directive. Obediently, Rukia lightly plucked the string Senna had fretted. "A." Again, Rukia plucked. "A, E, D," Senna said. She played a simple melody, her fingers sliding along the fret board as Rukis played the strings, until, "High E." Senna curled her fingers around the neck and slid down the frets, leaning further and further into Rukia's space as she climbed the note higher and higher. With a laugh, she threw a glance at Ichigo, seated watching the two of them, and held the highest fret she could, sustaining the note until it warbled ridiculously, tapping a fret more just for laughs. Even Rukia couldn't help but smile at the silly display. "See?" Senna said, still looking at Ichigo, "I'm much better with a partner than I am on my own."

Ichigo's own mouth went a little dry as Senna's hand traveled down the neck of Rukia's guitar, her fingers trailing along suggestively. "Rukia," Ichigo cleared his throat and started over, "Rukia could I speak to you for a moment?" He stood and turned quickly away, heading into the hall before leaning heavily against the wall. Senna's merciless innuendos were playing havoc with his mind and needed a minute to get his bearings, to try to figure out if he was really imagining it all or if Senna was actually doing what he suspected. That she was flirting with them both.

Rukia found him in the shadows of the hallway, the city lights streaming through the early evening and into his bedroom window, throwing soft, multicolored lights around him. "What?" she asked directly.

"Don't 'what' me," he hissed. "Senna!"

"What about her?"

"She's... she's..."

"She's what?" Rukia prompted, inwardly beginning to enjoy how flustered Ichigo was. Of course she'd been flirting with him and Ichigo clearly had no idea on how to handle it.

"She's... I dunno!" he admitted, his fingers clenched in his bright hair.

"She's cute?"

Ichigo's head snapped a bit. "Uh, yeah, I suppose," he said, a bit thrown by the apparent change of topic.

"Get a bit hot out there?" Rukia teased, a quirk in her eyebrow and the corner of her lips lifting up.

Ichigo scowled at Rukia's tone. "This isn't what I wanted to talk to you about."

"I'm sure if Senna had anything to say about it, your lips wouldn't be 'talking'," Rukia went on lightly.

Ichigo paused, looking critically at Rukia's carefully guarded face. "Oh my God," he said, aiming a finger in her direction, "You like her."

A number of emotions flickered across Rukia's face before she settled on indignant. "Pardon?"

"You know full well what she's doing out there, and you're enjoying yourself! At my expense!"

"Not everything is about you, Ichigo," Rukia huffed. "And... yes, okay? So what? She's nice and interesting and attractive, and I don't have to justify myself to you!" Ichigo was perceptive enough, unfortunately, that she knew she couldn't lie her way out of it. The only meaningful relationships she had in her life were her bandmates, her aloof brother's slight disapproval (which still stung) and Ichigo's friendship. Knowing someone was attracted to her, and reciprocating it back, was something she hadn't experienced in a long time.

Ichigo threw up his hands in defense. "I am not accusing you of anything other than being an enabler of her teasing."

"It sounded like you were accusing me of horning in on your date," she shot back, aware that their voices were beginning to carry.

"She is flirting with both of us," Ichigo claimed, "We're not competing here."

"Pfft," Rukia scoffed, examining her nails, "As if you'd be competition."

"Rukia! Listen to me, I don't think-"

"Lover's quarrel?" a shadowy figure from the mouth of the hall asked. "Thought I heard my name."

The teasing look on Rukia's face vanished instantly at Senna's sudden appearance. "No, uh," she cleared her throat, feeling remarkably caught red-handed, "You know Ichigo and I aren't-"

Senna laughed at Rukia's stumbled explanation. "I know, sweetie," Senna said, sidling up to Rukia and gently against the wall beside her. "Seems a shame though," she said, smiling at both of their choked responses. "You ever regret that?"

"Uh, I... that is, um," Rukia managed to say, feeling the soft warmth of Senna's presence beside her. She was glad of the semi-concealing darkness in the hallway until Senna's thigh brushed against the outside of her own, and then made no move to withdraw. At that moment the darkness around them went from concealing to intimate.

"What's the matter Rukia?" Ichigo smirked, finally seeing Rukia frozen into speechlessness by both the question and the way Senna had so adroitly invaded her personal space. "Feeling a bit hot?"

Rukia, her face flushed, shifted her luminous eyes from Senna's to his. Her glare was icy, conveying her alarm and displeasure at this line of inquiry. The boundaries of her friendship with Ichigo had always been something she'd studiously maintained, if anything than to prevent asking herself the very question Senna had posed to her. She'd told herself that romantic relationships weren't feasible while she was working so hard, putting in overtime at the office while trying to get her band off the ground, but the defense began to weaken as Senna shifted closer to her. Sure, it was on the auspices of seeking an answer to her question, but it had the very clear effect of pressing Rukia's bare arm to the side of her breast. Her pulse quickening, Senna's question forcing her to mentally evaluate avenues of thought she'd avoided before, she found her lines of reasoning blurred by the minimal, yet distracting, sensation of Senna's body against her own.

Ichigo's familiarity was thrown into new lights, their friendship and her feelings examined with new eyes. The alarm and tension she felt with Senna so close to her began to unwind, Ichigo's steady presence soothing the natural state of alertness that had gripped her. Her fingers uncurled from their fists, the images her overactive imagination conjured making her heart pound, and her fingertips were suddenly searching for something to touch. Her eyes slipped away from Ichigo as Senna moved her body, her attention drawn to her eyes and lips, the curve of her chin and the freckles across her nose.

"I also thought I heard someone say something about," Senna said, her voice low and intimate, "Lips." She leaned closer, covering the fractional distance between her and Rukia, and gently touched her lips to Rukia's. It couldn't have been briefer, barely more than a feathery caress of her lips, but the rigid tension that locked up the back of Rukia's neck told her she might've overplayed her hand. "S-sorry, I don't want to make you feel uncomfor-"

Rukia had brought her hands up from the half-reach she'd been holding back, moving to tilt Senna's head as she snaked the other around her back. She brushed her nose against Senna's, eager to feel those petal soft lips again, and gently returned the kiss they'd shared. Senna sighed beneath her and Rukia smiled into the kiss, gently coaxing a response from her as she let it linger. "I'm not uncomfortable," Rukia said as their kiss ended. She realized with a shock that it was true.

Ichigo, stunned into speechlessness, watched unblinkingly as Senna, who'd seized up like a surprised statue, melted in Rukia's arms. Her head ended up on Rukia's shoulder as she sighed a soft, contented sound, arms encircling Rukia's trim waist. Both women's eyes were swimming, dark with desire and hooded. They each slowly aimed their eyes at Ichigo, Senna's lidded with sultry confidence and Rukia's, slightly overwhelmed. Rukia was sending him a silent plea to either save her from this situation, or to bail out of the apartment so she could see how far it could go. Ichigo was pretty sure she was sending both messages.

"Let me stay here tonight?" Senna breathed across Rukia's neck.

Her eyes popped open. Caught staring at Ichigo, she found a mirror image of the surprised, stunned look on his face. "But, th-this is Ichigo's-"

"Let me stay here," Senna said, detangling herself from Rukia and taking the slow, sultry step towards Ichigo, "With you both." It wasn't a question anymore. She reached up and curled her fingers into Ichigo's shift front, tugging him down to her level, and kissed him as well. If Rukia's had been soft and sweet and delicately feminine, this was fiery and passionate, and Ichigo's body responded in kind even if his mind hadn't quite caught up yet.

Before he knew what he was doing, he'd gently pinned Senna against the wall, their lips pressed together and their tongues just beginning to ease out to caress the other. He hand his fingers in her hair and hers were fisted tight in his shift, holding him close. He didn't think he'd ever seen anything as arousing as the image of Rukia and Senna coiled femininely in sensual embrace, but the image flew from his mind, along with most every other thought, as Senna sucked his bottom lip between her own. Clasping her teeth gently around it, she let it draw back out, the pressure of her lips around him leaving him weak in the knees.

"Come on," Senna whispered, her smile warm and inviting. She clasped her hand around Ichigo's, then the other around Rukia's, leading them both down the hall toward his bedroom. Behind her, Rukia caught Ichigo's eye as they both wondered exactly it was they were walking into, but continue walking they did. Senna released their hands as they entered the bedroom, continuing to walk around the bed towards the windows that looked out onto the city. The riotous color filtered in through the gauzy curtains, leaving the room washed in muted blues, bright reds, warm oranges and soft violets. She turned back on the other two, still standing awkwardly, as if they had no idea what to do now, and did her best not to laugh. Instead, she turned back to the windows and asked simply, "Are you two sure you're okay with this?" She felt it only fair, in light of their close friendship, to give them one last way out.

Ichigo shifted his gaze to Rukia, finding her eyes turned down and a pensive look upon her face. Trust her not to jump into anything lightly, he smirked. His train of thought came to an abrupt halt, however, as it dawned on him that she was actually considering it. Here he was, thinking this whole evening was rapidly spiraling out of his control, and now that he'd been able to get his libido a bit more under control, he'd expected Rukia to deny any willingness to participate in Senna's suggestion (he gulped involuntarily) and that he'd agree with Rukia's position. Senna would leave while Rukia and he would be mortified by embarrassment for a few days, but everything would eventually go back to normal.

Normal, he sighed. Normal where he'd be longing for her from afar, careful to keep his emotions in check and to keep the mask firmly on his face. Normal where he was just her friend. Normal, which was killing him inside.

"Ichigo," Rukia said quietly. "We've known each other a long time." It wasn't a question, but he nodded mutely all the same. "And..." she turned up to face him, "I've always valued what we have together, but I'd be lying if I said there wasn't some part of me that's wanted more."

More? She's wanted more? This whole time? "Rukia, I-"

She turned away from him, her dark locks shielding her eyes. She took a deep, centering breath before speaking again. "I understand if you might feel differently, but I can't help but think," she felt herself gripped about the shoulders and turned bodily to face him again, the last of her words eking out, "-that we might have an opportu-"

"Rukia," Ichigo said, an honest, self-deprecating smile spreading across his face, "I feel the same way." He watched her eyes, glinting with the shifting of the colored lights, widen and her body tense beneath his fingers. "I've, I've felt the same way for a long time, but I've never been willing to risk losing you completely."

"You could never lose me," Rukia replied, grinning despite herself. Her arms slipped around Ichigo's waist as his closed about her shoulders and she felt herself brought close, her chest pressing against his in a far more intimate embrace than any hug they'd ever shared. She placed her head against his chest, hearing the quickening pace of his heart as her eyes locked onto Senna's profile, still standing faced out the windows of Ichigo's bedroom.

"Well," Senna said, clapping her hands together, the sharp sound ringing in the silence that had settled over the room. "I'm glad to hear you two managed to get over yourselves and finally confess your feelings for each other-" her words were cut off as she felt a pair of warm arms circle her, followed by the pressure of a body against her back.

"Without you, it might never have happened you know," Rukia whispered shyly, privately enjoying the way Senna shivered in her arms as her breath curled across her neck.

"Yeah, well," Senna hedged, her breath catching in her throat. "I don't want to get in the way of the happy couple..." Her words died away as Ichigo came to stand between her and the windows.

"It's not just each other we have feelings for, Senna," Ichigo pointed out. "Or did you forget the little stunt in the hall?" He took a step towards her and eased his hands against her hips, one sliding up to caress her side, the other curling around to ghost across her back until it met Rukia's front. His hand reached further, fingers splayed and curling across Rukia's side, firmly trapping Senna between the two of them. "Seems to me," he said, bending lower, his lips barely brushing against Senna's, "That it's a happy triple, instead."

Elated, Senna surged upwards, her fingers tangling in Ichigo's spiky orange locks as their lips pressed firmly together. The kiss deepened quickly, tongues flicking out to taste the other, sliding and caressing in simmering passion. She felt a warm sensation against her neck and moaned as Rukia began sealing scorching, nibbling kisses from the edge of her shirt collar and up her neck.

Drawing back at the unexpected noise, Ichigo caught sight of Rukia with her mouth against Senna's neck, Senna herself tipping her throat back to expose more of the silky flesh to her ministrations, and responded in the typical way one might expect: he watched, paralyzed. He couldn't tear his eyes away as Rukia reached the shell of Senna's ear, the wet pinkness of her tongue slipping out to slide against her earlobe before it was captured between her lips. Rukia's eyes opened, meeting his, Senna's earlobe still trapped between her lips, and she very pointedly squeezed it, watching for his reaction and listening to intently to hers. Senna yelped, a hand shooting up to hold Rukia in place, her fingers indicating she should do it again just her other hand clutched onto Ichigo's shirt, pulling him tighter against her. Her eyelids lifted and her eyes met Ichigo's, seeing him watching Rukia as she delicately fluttered warm kisses against her neck and ear. "Kiss her," Senna told him. "Kiss her like you've always wanted to."

Ichigo glanced from Rukia to Senna, then returned as Rukia slipped around her, moving from behind to her side. Her hands traveled up his arms, her fingers slipping against his neck as he gathered her in his arm, the other still holding Senna tightly against his other side. His arms holding them both close, Ichigo dipped his head and sealed his lips against Rukia's, finding them eager for his touch and responding instantly, and heatedly. He could still taste the hints of coffee and cinnamon on her lips, along with what was simply Rukia, and he found the experience intoxicating. He felt her fingers travel through his hair as she clutched him close, their kiss moving from the sudden, intense relief of long-simmering passion and into the slow exchange, the wordless communication of love and affection.

Senna felt her heart swell as Ichigo and Rukia slowly ended their kiss, both looking a little time-lost and flushed. Her fingers reached up to run through Rukia's silky hair, brushing it over her ear as she met Senna's eyes. "You two feel so deeply for each other," Senna whispered.

"Yes," Rukia agreed, her eyes dark and hungry, "But now I think there'd been something missing all this time. Some piece that hadn't completed the picture."

"Just like the coffee," Ichigo said, catching Rukia's meaning and turning to face Senna. "There's a third element, one that mellows the richness of the coffee while bringing out new flavors in the cinnamon. Without it, nothing would've worked out."

"So," Senna said, her smile widening, "You're saying I'm the cream?" She wiggled her hips and raised an eyebrow saucily.

Rukia shifted in their embrace a bit, moving Senna away from Ichigo as they broke free of his arms. Senna stepped lightly backwards as Rukia guided her, pursuing her like a predator across the bedroom floor. "Do you want to be?" she asked huskily. Senna nodded eagerly, her calves bumping against the foot of Ichigo's bed. "What do you think Ichigo? How much do you like creamer?"

"I can't have coffee without it." Ichigo stepped up behind Rukia, his hands slipping to her waist.

"Me neither," Rukia said, tipping her head up to look over her shoulder. He nodded down to her, a smile peeking at the edges of his lips. Rukia nodded back to him before turning to face Senna again. "In fact, I think I could need a little creamer," Rukia pushed Senna onto the bed where she bounced down happily, "Every day."


End file.
